The aftermath...
by linnell
Summary: Rent - Explores Mark and Roger's Relationship (Nope, no slash)
1. Part II

Here is part 1; part 2 will be coming soon. Disclaimer stuff…. I don't own these characters… blah blah.

"Did you call Roger yet?" 

I look up at Joanne and shake my head. I haven't wanted to tell him the news. He has been through so much and hearing it wouldn't help. First Angel, then Mimi and now Collins. How many funerals do we have to go to? Maureen tightens her arm around me. Joanne reaches out and takes my hand. I look at the two of them and smile. We all know that soon it will be just the three of us left, an in reality, they'll have each other and I'll be alone. 

I'm worried about Roger. Ever since Mimi died he hasn't taken care of himself. He stopped taking his medication, stays away for days at a time and hardly even speaks. He moved out of the loft because he said it was too intense for him. I know he didn't want me looking over his shoulder anymore. 

"Do you want me to call him?" Joanne asks me, yes I do. 

"No, I will." I pick up the telephone. How do I tell him? The phone rings and a stranger picks up the phone. "Hello, is Roger there?"  
"Uh… Roger, no he moved out the other day."  
"Moved out? Any idea where he went to?"

"No man, I took over his room, I never met the guy."

"Ok, thanks." I hang up the phone and stare at it a few minutes.

"Roger moved out?" Maureen's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Where did he go?"  
"I don't know. Maybe the loft?" I hope he went to the loft. Roger has a history of running away when things get tough. "I'll go and look for him." 

After assuring the girls I would be fine, I left their place. I hop on the subway and make my way back to the loft. The same loft where Roger, Collins, Benny, Maureen and I lived. Now I am the only one left there. I never thought our tiny little loft could feel so huge. 

I walk up the stairs to the loft silently praying that I will walk in and see Roger sitting on the table strumming his guitar. I walk in and the room is empty.


	2. Part III

Part 2 of my story….

I take off my coat and throw it on the table. I haven't been home in three days, since Collins got sick. I go the answering machine and the red light is on. I press the button… two messages.

"Mark, its mom! Hope everything is good. Are you coming home for your niece's birthday? We all miss you… CALL!"

_BEEP!_

"Mark… its Roger" I sigh a breath of relief, "I'm taking off for awhile. I'll call soon."

Taking off? Where? Roger, I need to find you. I wonder if he found out about Collins. How could he have, he got sick so fast… I have to find him to tell him. All right, I'll go to his place, maybe someone there can tell me something. 

I knock at the door to Roger's old apartment. I'm told to come in by an invisible voice through the door. I open the door and I'm not too surprised to see a small group of guys sitting around smoking pot. Great. This is just the environment Roger needed to be in.

"Yeah, uh, have any of you guys seen Roger?"   
"He moved out."

"Yeah I know, did he say where he was going?" Wow these guys are great conversationalists. 

"He kept to himself. Just said he was taking off. I didn't ask any questions, none of my business." 

"Ok… well thanks for your help."

I don't even know where to look. He doesn't have a car, but the band has been playing pretty steady so I'm sure he has some money. The band! He wouldn't just leave them behind. I go to a payphone and call Tom the drummer. No answer. I don't know the other guys' last names… I guess I'll go to their rehearsal space.

As I walk down the street my mind wanders. I think of all the times Roger, Collins and I spent together. They were my best friends. The past few years the good times have been few and far between, but we always come together to support one another. Now, Collins is gone, and so is Roger. I know Roger only has a limited time left. I was devastated when he decided to move out, but I understood. I know it's hard for him to admit caring about people. Every time he loses someone, a part of him shuts down. When Mimi died, he shut me out of his life. I wanted to give him space, but at the same time, I wanted to spend time with him. I don't want to face my life alone yet. Not when he is still here. Somewhere.

I get stuck standing at a corner waiting for a light to change. I stare at a pigeon trying to get something to eat. I watch as another pigeon comes and fights him for it. I take my camera out and start filming them. They are each trying to survive on their own. They don't need each other; they are fine on their own. The light changes and I begin to cross the street. Maybe I don't need Roger after all. Maybe I can carry on without him. Ok Mark, you have to stop comparing your life to that of a birds. I finally arrive at the warehouse where his band rehearses. 

"Hello?"

"Mark! Hey, come on in." 

"Hey guys." They are all here, minus Roger. "Do you guys know where Roger is?  
"I'm right here, Mark." Roger walks up from behind me; his face is badly bruised. 

"What happened?" He looks at the other guys and says he got into a fight. He asks me to go for a walk.

"So Mark, I went home for a few days." 

"Home, like to your parent's house?" I've known Roger a long time and he has never gone home."

"Yeah, it didn't go to well. I told them about my… uh… situation."

"What? That you're HIV+? You never told them?" I always assumed he did. 

"Yeah, they didn't take it so well, especially my dad. Right back to the old routine." He says that as points to his face. He laughs, "He called me a fag and told me to get the hell out of his house and never come back."

"Roger, I'm sorry."

He shrugs, "Whatever, I expected it. That's why I didn't tell them for so long."

"So why now? Why did you decide to tell them now?" I have to tell him about Collins but I can tell he is pretty shaken up about this thing with his parents.

"The time seemed right. My landlord raised the rent, so I had to move. The band had a few nights off, so I borrowed Tom's car and took off. By the way, can I stay with you?"

"Absolutely!" I sound a little more eager than I meant to. "Uh Roger, something happened while you were away." I try and judge what his reaction is going to be there is just no telling with him. He either shuts off, or gets too emotional.

"Yeah, what?" He says as he lights a cigarette. "Don't say a word, Mark."

He knows me too well.   
"Collins got sick. He didn't make it."  
"WHAT?"

"This morning, he died this morning. Maureen, Joanne and I were there. We tried to find you but you were gone…I cannot believe we lost him… I was starting to believe we lost you, I thought you left again and I worried it was for good.

"Fuck you Mark!'

"Excuse me?" I'm actually shocked by this reaction.

"Don't try to make me feel guilty because I went somewhere without your permission."

"Calm down, Roger."

"I will not calm down, you tell me my friend is dead and then you lay a guilt trip on me? What kind of person are you? Oh poor Mark, he's going to be left here all alone. Oh poor Mark, he actually gets to grow old and get something out of life."

That stings. It always stings when he throws it my face. I know I should feel lucky, but I don't.

"Roger, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you in my life. You are my best friend and I hate to see you so… "

"…So what? Pathetic? Sick? Very nice Mark.'

"Angry, I was going to say angry." I want to walk away. I want to walk away and forget all about him. 

"Angry." He says it through a half-chuckle. "Gee Mark, I don't have anything to be angry about. Three people who I let myself care about have died, and oh let's see, I'm dying too!" His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't…."

"But hey, lucky me! I have sunshiny Mark Cohen as a best friend. Don't forget your AZT Roger. You shouldn't smoke Roger. Did you get enough sleep Roger? Jesus, you would think you were my fucking mother!'

"Well someone's got to be" As soon as the words left my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Especially when I see his fist heading for my face. He gets me right in the nose and I fall backwards. Blood is everywhere. Roger takes a good look at me and runs off down the street.


	3. Part IV

Part 3… this is from Roger's point of view now…

I take off down Avenue A. I have no idea where I'm going. I hit Mark. I can't believe it. I slow my pace down as I round the corner and take out my cigarettes. I fumble with a match to get one lit. I pretend to not notice my hands are shaking. Collins? How could we lose Collins now? Why didn't I get to say good-bye? How much more death do I have to face? I HATE THIS FUCKING DISEASE! 

I don't want to dwell on it. I've had enough, I knew Collins was going to die eventually. Just not so…. No! I'm not going to think about it anymore. I try to think other things. I have no control over my mind though. I picture my parents and the looks on their faces when I told them yesterday. My mother looked as if I was already dead, and my dad… well if he didn't hate me before, he sure as hell does now. 

I remember way back to my days with April. I played with my band, hung out with her. Mark and I were always causing trouble. We actually used to have fun together. Then April's and my partying got a little too serious. We withdrew from the world into our own clouds of whatever. I miss that feeling. That mind numbing feeling that takes the pain away. Of course, what did I know about pain then? I thought my problems were so huge, and really they were nothing. I wish I could go back in time to that place. 

I start thinking about Mimi. All the times she pretended she wasn't using and I knew she was. I wasn't tempted at all to join her. I wanted to help her, to get her to stop. All she was doing was living "no day but today." She was enjoying herself during her life. How could I try and stop that? 

I find myself on an old corner that I haven't seen in years. It looks exactly the same, same bum in the corner sleeping, same hot dog vender, and the same dealer. I already made my decision, and I feel the adrenaline rushing though me as I approach him.

"Well well, long time no see." 


	4. Part V

Part 4 of 5. Mark is first, then Roger. Next up the final Mark/Roger confrontation!!! I do not own these characters, Jonathan Larson has all rights….

I'm in shock. I push myself against a wall and try to stop the bleeding. I think he broke my nose. Tears well up in my eyes, but it hurts to cry. I won't let myself cry. I push myself off the ground and begin walking back towards the loft. I don't have to think about the direction since my legs are on autopilot. I walk past St. Mark's Place and see the homeless people and street vendors setting up shop for the night. I think about filming them, so I reach for my camera. Instead I begin to point it at myself.

"I know I must be sight right now," No, no that's the way I should start. I take a deep breath. "Today, Thomas B. Collins left us. Thomas, known to his friends simply as Collins, was true genius as well as a true friend. He never judged us and he never pushed away. He was always there to listen. Even when he lost Angel, all he wanted was for our little family of friends to stay together and help each other. It brings me great comfort to know that he is finally with his Angel"  
I put the camera down. There, I had to get that out. Why am I doing this? Why am I pretending this thing with Roger didn't just happen? I can still feel the warm blood dripping from my nose. I need to get home to clean myself up. I walk home and think about Collins and Roger. Collins would never hurt me, yet Roger does all the time. Is Roger really a friend? Is he someone I can count on?" Would he be there for me if I needed it? One look at my reflection in a store window gives me my answer.

I get back to loft and think about the next step I should take. The old Mark would just forgive and forget. But I think I may have reached my breaking point. I don't know though. I love the guy; there is no one else on earth I would rather be then with him. I don't want to waste time fighting with him. One thing I've learned these past few years is not to take anyone for granted. I really should be angry with him though; the only thing I'm guilty of is caring about him. I want him to be around for as long as possible so I nag him about taking care of himself. 

I'm not going to search for him. He knows where to find me. I have never felt angry towards Roger before, but then again, he has never punched me before. "You didn't do anything wrong" I say the words out loud. "You didn't do anything wrong." I've made up my mind. I'm going to let him know that this is it. He either has to appreciate me, or I won't be there anymore. I have to face my life without him, now is as good as time as any.

I take off down the street, faster than I really need to move. I put my hand in my pocket to make sure it is still there. I can't believe I just did this. I can't believe I'm going to do it. As I walk down the street, I pass the corner where I left Mark. There is blood stained onto the sidewalk. I stop and stare at it. Did I actually do that? Did I actually hurt Mark?  


I reach in m pocket and feel the small plastic bag. No, my mind is made up. I'm just going to waste my days away feeling nothing at all. But do I really want to live that way? I try to recall what seemed so obvious to me a few minutes before, but all I can see is Mark's face after I hit him. I need to go talk to him. He needs to know that I'm sorry… 


	5. Part VI

I lied before, this is not the conclusion, but part 5 of 6. 

I hear Roger coming up the stairs. I know it is him because he always climbs them the same way. I take a deep breath. I know this isn't going to be easy. I hear him fumble with the lock and finally open the door.

"Mark, are you home?"  
"I'm right here Roger." I speak to him without looking up. I pretend to be very interested in the New York Times that I bought three weeks ago. 

"Mark… I'm…. Are you ok?"  
I give him a thumbs up signal. I don't want him to see my face. Both my eyes are bruised and my nose is swollen. I try to cover my face with the newspaper, as well as hide the tears that seem to uncontrollably fall. It is so hard for me to be mad at him.

"Mark, listen, I'm sorry I hit you. I just… these past few days…. My parents, then Collins… I didn't know how to deal with things, I still don't."

I finally look up from the newspaper, "So you deal with them like this?" I point to my face. 

"Oh God Mark, I don't know what to say…"  
"You know what Roger, save it. I don't even care anymore. You don't treat your friends this way."  
"Mark, I know… listen I need your help or else I'm going to do something stupid."  
"Like what? Punch your best friend?"

"No… I mean…"  
"Roger, cut the shit, really. I don't even want to hear it anymore." I look right at him, and lose all hopes of composure. "I LOST COLLINS TOO! It is not just about you! Mimi, Angel even April were my friends and I loved them! But its you everyone is worried about. You're the one everyone checks in on. Mark will be ok, its Roger who has really lost the most. It's not always about you, the world fucking does not revolve around you!"  
"I know the world doesn't revolve around me Mark, it's just that…"

"Whatever… I don't want to, NO! I _can't_ deal with this right now." I grab my coat. "I just need to get out of here." I grab my keys and walk out the door.

-------------------------------------

Mark has never spoken like that to me before. I go over to the window and watch him on the street. He seems to really hate me now. If I don't have Mark in my life… what do I have anymore?

I reach into my pocket and pull out the stash. I toss it back and forth between my hands. Mark's right, I shouldn't depend on him so much. I need to be able to fix my own pain and there is only one way I know how. 

I go to bathroom, and search for some of the medical supplies left behind after Mimi.... My hands are trembling, but I try not to think about what I am doing. I sit down at the table and open the stash. I take a good whiff of it. I move quickly and the steps come right back to me. 

------------------------------

I walk out onto the street, but I don't know where to go. I did it. I told Roger off. I can't believe it. I feel actually relieved but drained. I hope he gets the point. Our friendship cannot go on the way things were. He has to know how much he means to me, but I need to know in return He has taken me for granted for too long.

Back to my problem of where to go. I feel like filming, but I left my camera back in the loft. I look up at the window. I could just go in, not say a word, take it and leave. Knowing Roger he is probably sulking and wouldn't notice anyway. 

I walk up the stairs; I go as quietly as I can. I don't want to give him forewarning that I'm coming. I try the door, but it is locked. Did I lock the door? I fumble with my keys and finally get the door open.


	6. Part VII

**The finale! Copyright stuff: Roger and Mark do not belong to me, though I wish they did… anyway… Jonathan Larson created the characters, I just use them for my enjoyment…**

I walk in the apartment. Roger is sitting on the table and scurries like he is trying to hide something. In fact, did he just cover up something with my New York Times? Whatever, in and out that was my plan.

"Back so soon?" He is sitting really still and has a scared look in his eyes.  
"Yeah, I forgot my camera, but I'll be on my way." I turn around, and walk towards the door, but something stops me. "Is everything alright?" Right back into co-dependence mode.

"Yeah, just fucking dandy."   
"What are you doing?" Mark; just get out of the apartment before you contradict everything you just said.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine."  
"Uh-huh…Seriously, Roger, what are you hiding?"  
"Nothing. You don't care anymore anyway."

Uh… he is so frustrating. "Roger, you know I care. I was just pissed off. You are really acting weird though, what is wrong? What are you hiding?"

"Mark, for the last fucking time, mind your own fucking God-damn business!"

"This is obvious my business." I put my camera back on the table. "I hate fighting with you Roger, especially now… after Collins… its times like this we need each other the most. You just keep pushing me away so I was trying to give you a taste of your own medicine. I care about you; you are like a brother to me. And the realistic picture is, I'm the only one you have left. We're stuck with each other for the time being."

Roger turns to look at me. He looks beaten down. "I hate admitting that I need people, and I especially hate admitting that I need you." I laugh at that. "Truth is Mark, I need you now more than ever." He then picks up the newspaper to reveal his needle and stash. 

I jump back astonished. "Are you kidding me?"  
"No, I'm afraid not. Just this once, just now was the first time in years."  
I'm speechless. I don't know what to say. 

The phone begins ringing. We both ignore it. 

'SPEAK!' BEEP!

"Mark? It's Maureen, obviously. Just wondering if you'd found Roger yet. Joanne and I are worried about him. Call us ok sweetie." BEEP!

"How's that for irony?" Roger speaks my own thoughts for me. He laughs, but then grows serious. "I guess you are right. No one worries about you. You never seem to need it. You're always taking caring of us…" His voice trails off because the phone rings again.

'SPEAK!' BEEP!

"Mark, it's me again, We're worried about you too. Call us or come over. We want to see you… Don't be a stranger!" BEEP!

I chuckle. "Leave it to Maureen." 

"Yeah." He laughs. "I feel like shit. Why did I do this again?"

"I haven't the slightest, but I won't go through that bullshit again. Roger, I will help you, I will be there, but I won't put up with that shit. You have to choose, right now. You can stay here and flush it all, or walk out the door now."

"I just don't want to hurt anymore." 

"If you don't hurt, are you really living?"

"Ooohhh, that's really deep." He starts laughing at me. "Where would I be without your little Markisms?"

"Markisms. I like that." I roll my eyes, worried about what his next action will be. I don't want to see him walk out that door, but…I reach out and grab his shoulder. "I mean it Roger, you have to decide now."  
"Ok, I understand." He gets up from the table and walks straight in the bathroom "I feel like shit now, but maybe we can go out later…"  
"Yeah, whatever you want."  
"You'll have to pay" He yells from inside the bathroom, "I kind of wasted all my money today." And with the word wasted, I hear the toilet flush.

****

Well there it is, my first saga. I was going to have Mark roll up his sleeve and share needles with Roger, but I went for the super happy ending instead. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
